


Right Hand Green

by llamajo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Step brother!Derek, Twister - Freeform, Voyeurism, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llamajo/pseuds/llamajo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles walks in on Derek while he's jerking off. </p>
<p>He claims it was an accident. </p>
<p>(It wasn't.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Green

Derek walks into the living room while Stiles is squatting and reaching a hand out in front of him, laughing because Scott is bent over on top of him and Stiles’s head is stuck under his armpit.

“Left foot blue,” Stiles says, and Scott moves said foot, jostling Stiles as he does.

“Aren't you a little too old for Twister?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Twister is timeless, dude,” Stiles says. His thighs are starting to ache from squatting so long but he will persevere. “Plus, Scott doesn't think I can beat him, but I totally can.” He rubs his head against Scott’s chest.

“Stiles!” Scott laughs, “Hurry up, it’s your turn.”

Stiles reaches out to flick the game piece. “Right hand yellow,” he announces, and he moves his right hand in front of himself, leaning forward slightly. His head is mashed in Scott’s armpit. It's great.

“How did we end up like this?” Scott asks, laughing.

“Hey Derek, you wanna play?” Stiles asks, because he wouldn't mind getting real close and personal with Scott’s hot older brother.

“I’ll just watch,” Derek says, smirking. He sits down on the couch in front of them.

“You’re missing out, dude,” Stiles says as Scott spins the game piece.

“Left foot green,” Scott says, and Stiles laughs because Scott is _not_ that flexible.

“This is going to end badly,” Scott says, stretching out his foot. It’s too far of a reach and he ends up collapsing on Stiles’s back causing Stiles to fold underneath him.

“I won!” Stiles yells from underneath Scott. Scott groans as he gets back to his feet.

“Now it’s one-to-one,” Stiles tells Derek, “The person to win the next round is the champion.”

“Fascinating,” Derek deadpans, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Let’s start on opposite ends this time,” Stiles tells Scott.

They start the last round and Derek watches. Stiles gets lucky the first few times and only has to move his feet around to different colors. When he has to crouch down he somehow ends up entangled with Scott once again and he wishes that Derek would consent to play because this game is an awesome excuse for full-body touching.

Scott reaches out to put his left hand on a blue circle and his cheek touches Stiles’s.

“Oh, hey, Daddy,” Stiles croons, rubbing his cheek against Scott’s. Scott laughs in his ear.

Eventually he ends up in a position facing away from Derek with Scott crouched underneath him so that he has to partially stand up to reach over him, and basically his ass is in the air right in front of Derek’s face and he doesn't know what to do about that. He can feel the flush on his face and the back of his neck and he tells himself to get a grip, Derek’s probably not even looking at his ass anyway so he should stop feeling self-conscious.

He spins a “right hand green” and so he has to reach even further forward and bend lower and it’s just getting worse and worse and finally he just gives up and leans his weight against Scott, who groans and falls to the floor.

“I won,” Scott says, “I totally won that round.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says, still blushing a little bit. He doesn't look at Derek as they start packing up the game and deciding what to do next.

Before they’re done the doorbell rings and Derek says, “Finally,” as he gets up from the couch. Stiles watches him walk to the front door. He signs for a package and then heads back up the stairs.

“What’d you get?” Stiles yells.

“None of your business!” Derek yells back, already on the second floor. Stiles hears his bedroom door shut and he shrugs.

Scott’s phone starts ringing and he and Stiles look at each other. That’s Allison’s ringtone. Scott gives him the puppy dog eyes and Stiles rolls his own, waves his hand and goes to put the game away.

Scott says, “Allison? Hi!” and settles down on the couch to talk to her. Stiles knows this might (will) be a while, so he heads upstairs to Scott’s room. He can play FIFA while he waits. He walks past Derek’s bedroom door on the way and pauses, turns back and presses his ear up against the door.

He can hear… it sounds… it sounds like…

Derek and Scott aren't allowed to have locks on their doors so Stiles reaches out and turns the knob very, very slowly, his heart pounding. He knows he shouldn't do this, that it’s an invasion of privacy and Derek will probably kill him, but he just has to see…

He pushes the door open quietly, slowly, so slowly, until the gap is wide enough for him to stick his head in. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in surprise, even though he’s seeing exactly what he expected:

Derek jerking off.

He’s completely naked, not even a sock still on a foot, his clothes strewn about the floor - like he was in a rush to get them off - and he’s facing away from Stiles. He’s on his hands and knees, grinding his hips down and he hasn't noticed Stiles yet, hasn't noticed anything at all so Stiles steps further into the room, pushing the door closed behind him but not all the way. Stiles moves silently to stand in front of Derek's closet and just watches.

Now that he has a better view he can see that Derek bought himself a Fleshlight. The package he got earlier is open on the floor.

Derek is breathing heavily, groaning softly as he grinds into his new toy. He has it positioned between two pillows near his head board and his hands are clamped down on the pillows, holding them together so that he can fuck into the Fleshlight without it moving away.

Derek himself is moving around; he keeps trying to fuck into the toy at different angles, putting one knee up and then back down, just grinding slowly. His ass is in the air and his thigh muscles are fucking glorious and Stiles has to cover his mouth with his palm because he’s breathing heavily now, too, and his dick is throbbing in his shorts but he doesn't dare touch it.

He’s not good at being quiet when he’s pleasuring himself.

Also, he doesn't want to be distracted. Derek is captivating, he’s fucking _beautiful_ , and Stiles would rather die than look away. Both of Derek’s knees are off the bed now, his legs are stretched out and he’s balancing on his toes as he slides in and out of his toy with long strokes. His balls are scrunched up tight to his body and his cock is glistening and thick. Stiles watches it move in and out of the toy and, fuck, he wishes that was him -

“Oh, yeah,” Derek moans, breathy, as he puts his knees back on the bed. He fucks into the Fleshlight real slow and deep, so deep that his balls push back when he’s fully sheathed. He circles his hips, grinding down, going even deeper, and it should be illegal for someone to be this hot, it really should.

Derek keeps moaning, long drawn out sounds that spill out of him on every breath, and the sounds themselves are almost as hot as the image.

Almost.

And Derek is just taking his time, fucking luxuriously, enjoying himself. He has no idea he’s being watched, and Stiles knows that he should leave now before Derek sees him because it is creepy and weird to watch his best friend’s hot older brother masturbate, even if he _has_ had a crush on Derek ever since he became a part of Scott’s family a few years ago.

Stiles has started to softly palm his cock through the soft material of his shorts (thank _God_ he’s not wearing jeans) and he thinks he might honestly come in his pants if he doesn't leave soon.

_“Oh,”_ Derek says, and he starts moving a little faster, going in and out and in and out. There’s a throbbing vein standing out along the bottom of his cock and Stiles briefly wonders if he’s uncut but he doesn't know because Derek hasn't pulled out all the way yet.

Stiles rubs his palm across his cock, hard, and bites his lip.

He doesn't know how much longer he watches Derek masturbate, but suddenly Derek’s moans are becoming louder and his thrusts are becoming shallower, more frantic.

“Uh, I’m gonna come,” he says, and he surges forward, groaning loudly. It sounds like it's been punched out of him. It sounds like he’s trying to keep himself quiet and Stiles wants to know how loud he would be if he was completely alone in the house.

God, Stiles can see Derek's perineum pulsing, that place right above his balls, and it’s _obscene_ , and Derek’s thighs are tensing and trembling and he sounds so wrecked like his orgasm is just being pulled from him.

And then he starts moving again, short rabbit thrusts of his hips, still moaning, and holy shit he’s still coming. Derek’s hips are jerking erratically and he’s still moving, like it’s so good that he wants to come again and his voice has dropped down low, almost to a growl and he’s rumbling quietly, almost angrily, as he continues to fuck his toy. After a few more seconds of that Derek arches his back and slams inside the toy, making a noise of pleasure that almost sounds surprised and then he’s thrusting again, almost like he can’t help it, and Stiles wonders how the fuck Derek is still going because he would be way too sensitive by now. It’s unreal.

“Ah, fuck,” Derek says quietly, breathing heavy like a racehorse, and Stiles wishes he could see Derek’s face, thinks the expression of pleasure he would see there would be the hottest thing of all.

Then, after what seems like whole minutes, Derek finally seems to be coming down from his high. His ass starts twitching as he convulses forward into his toy, his muscles flexing and jumping. Derek’s breathing evens out as he twitches, and it looks almost involuntary - his ass muscles working spasmodically as he lets out a final groan and slowly pulls out of the toy.

His cock is soft as it hangs between his thighs and Stiles doesn't even think about leaving; he can hardly comprehend what the fuck he just watched, he just knows that it was the hottest thing he’s ever seen (and he’s watched a lot of porn, so that’s saying something).

Derek lays down on his bed and turns on his back, and his eyes widen when he sees Stiles standing there like a fucking idiot with his mouth hanging open and his dick making an obscene tent in his shorts, so fucking hard, and he’s not even going to try to lie his way out of this one because he thinks his brain might have short-circuited.

“What the fuck, Stiles?” Derek asks, staring at him in surprise, but he also looks dazed and blissed out and like he can’t be bothered to get angry at Stiles because he just had the best orgasm of his life.

“Sorry, I -” what the fuck is Stiles supposed to _say_ -

“I - you didn't notice me come in and -”

“So you watched me,” Derek says, his eyes only half open. He’s not even bothering to cover himself, and Stiles doesn't think that anyone’s soft cock should look that good, not even Derek Hale’s.

“Close the door,” Derek says, his voice low, and Stiles trips over himself in his haste to obey.

“Come here,” Derek says, and Stiles whines. Derek’s coming back to life now, the effects of his orgasm are wearing off and his eyebrows are drawing down.

“Please don’t kill me,” Stiles squeaks.

“Come here, Stiles,” Derek says again, firmer this time, and Stiles does even though he’s probably walking towards his death.

When he gets close enough Derek’s hand reaches out and he pulls Stiles down on the bed by his shirt and Stiles yelps and flails a little bit, his heart pounding in his ears. He closes his eyes and readies himself for a punch, a hit, anything, but Derek lets go of the front of his shirt and Stiles feels a hand cup his cheek. He opens his eyes slowly and Derek is right there, his gaze intense as he looks at Stiles.

“You've been a bad boy, Stiles,” he says, quietly, “watching me. You shouldn't have done that.” His voice is low and growly but he doesn't sound angry, he -

“It’s not really fair, is it? That you got to watch me?” Derek waits for a response this time, his thumb rubbing gently across Stiles’s cheek, and Stiles shakes his head agreeably. He’s so hard it’s almost painful and he just wants to come.

“That’s right,” Derek says, and he’s grinning now, “It’s not fair. So, I should get to watch you now. That makes sense, right? That way we’re even.”

Stiles nods. Derek’s eyes are so green.

“Good,” Derek says. His hands move and he starts pulling down Stiles’s shorts and boxers. He leans up and pulls them all the way down Stiles’s thighs, over his calves and feet until he hears them drop to the floor. Derek comes back up the bed and lays down next to Stiles, not touching him this time.

“Come on, Stiles,” he says softly, pointing to his Fleshlight, and _oh_ , that’s what Derek means. He wants to watch Stiles use the Fleshlight. Stiles hardly thinks that’s a punishment at all, though he knows he’ll come embarrassingly fast.

His hand is trembling slightly as he reaches for the Fleshlight. Derek bought the ass model and a little bit of his come is dribbling out of the tiny hole. Stiles is surprised with the quality of the toy - it really does look like a little asshole.

He gets up on all fours like Derek did and balances on one side so he can hold the Fleshlight steady with his other hand as he slowly pushes his throbbing cock into the hole. He groans loudly when he’s inside because holy fuck it’s tight and wet with Derek’s come and leftover lube, and Derek’s cock was in this same hole just minutes ago.

Stiles closes his eyes and gives himself over to the sensations, moving his hips erratically, choking back his moans. He doesn't dare to open his eyes and look at Derek, though he knows that Derek is watching him; he can feel Derek’s gaze on his face and all over his body and he’s so turned on that he doesn't even care that Derek is seeing him fall apart.

He’s so worked up he’s gonna come so fast; he can already feel his orgasm building, that tingle in his balls and the pleasure of it all - yes, yes, _fuck_ , and then he’s coming with a groan.

He flops down onto Derek’s bed, boneless and trembling with aftershocks. He feels overheated but the sheets are cool beneath him. Stiles turns onto his back and pulls the toy off, then quickly flips it right side up so that the come doesn't spill out and make a mess. Stiles reaches out to put it on the nightstand and then turns back towards Derek, who is still in the same position on the bed.

Stiles can feel the flush creeping up his face, his embarrassment just kicking in, but he looks down and sees that Derek is at half mast already and maybe he would be fully hard if Stiles had lasted a little longer, and the thought gives him confidence.

_We should do this again_ , is what he wants to say, but what he actually says is, “We should date,” and then he kind of wants to punch himself.

But Derek just chuckles and says, “Okay.”

And, what? Is it really that easy?

“And we should do this again,” Derek continues, “But without the Fleshlight next time.”

Stiles’s dick valiantly tries to get hard again at the thought of getting fucked by Derek. Or, Lord help him, of him fucking Derek.

“Yeah,” he says, dazed by this amazing series of events, “Yes, absolutely, we should.”

Derek smiles sleepily at him, closed mouth, and God, he’s beautiful. Stiles really wants to kiss him and he’s leaning forward when he hears feet running up the stairs.

“Stiles!”

“Shit!” Stiles swears, throwing himself to the floor to frantically pull on his shorts and underwear. He had completely forgotten Scott was downstairs, holy shit.

He hears Scott’s footsteps as he walks past the bedroom just as he’s pulling his shorts up and straightening his shirt.

“Stiles?” Scott calls, “Did you go home?”

Derek has a pair of jeans on and he’s just slipping a shirt over his head when Stiles opens up his bedroom door.

“I’m in here!” Stiles says, and Scott’s head peeks out of his bedroom.

“Why are you in Derek’s room?”

“We were just chillin’” Stiles says. He grins at Derek one more time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

“Allison says hi,” Scott tells him as they wait for their game to load.

“Cool,” Stiles says, wondering exactly how much he should tell Scott about what just happened. His phone vibrates in his pocket. He digs it out and looks at the screen. It’s a text from Derek:

_Let’s go out tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7._

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Stiles begins, “If I were to start dating Derek -”

“I approve, so long as you don’t give me any details about your sexual adventures.”

Stiles snorts, “You’re a filthy hypocrite,” he says, but he’s smiling as he types back:

_It’s a date. ;)_


End file.
